Desperation
by fufulupin
Summary: Set in S4. Willow is confused over her feelings for a certain shy witch, so she goes to Xander for comfort. WT eventually, WX friendship.


Disclaimer: Don't own a thing. Obviously.

A/N: Oh, I think this is absolutely terrible. It started off going in one direction and then it swerved horribly off-course…urg, it's the worst. But I'll post it anyway, and I'll see if I get a response. If there are a few people who like it, maybe I'll write (and post) the next chapter.

There is a kind of desperation in her eyes when she looks at me. I know she doesn't know I know…but I do. I always have. And it sparks something in me.

She doesn't understand yet.

I don't understand yet.

Honestly? I'm not sure there's anything to understand.

But there has to be, right? I mean…you can't just live a life like this, quiet, near-silent, even. Terrified of acting and, at the same time, petrified of standing still.

What am I supposed to do?

I don't think I've ever felt so confused.

I met her by accident. No one knows anyone until they're forced together, right? Well, we _were_ forced together, in a way. And it makes me happy that we were. Because, if we weren't, I wouldn't know her at all.

Does this make any kind of sense?

I can feel her presence, even when she's nowhere near me. Even when I'm in class, even when I should be focusing on something, anything else, I can sense her. Even when I'm with Xander and Buffy, even when I'm helping my best friends in the world kill things—God, why me?

What is going on?

Is there something wrong with me?  
I want to close my eyes, but I can't. If I do, all I'll see is her. I want to read over my psych paper, but it touches too close to home. I want to practice some magic, but every time I so much as reach for a spellbook, that image of a shy girl hiding behind a curtain of dirty-blond hair comes back and sends me reeling.

There are no answers in this room, so I get up and pace the hallway outside. There's nothing there either. I want to cry.

Where is Buffy? Where is Giles? Where is my Xander, my oldest friend in the world, the one who can always make me laugh, always make me feel like nothing's wrong.

I need my Xander.

It takes less time than usual to get to his house because I take the bus. I don't generally like public transportation in Sunnydale, but sometimes one just can't take the time to walk. Especially in the dark.

I'm on his doorstep, one hand poised to knock on the door leading to his basement, when he appears from around the side of the house. He's dressed in baggy jeans and a tie-dyed tee shirt I gave him for his seventeenth birthday. Mud streaks his face and his size 14 sneakers and I know instantly that his crazy mother has once again forced him into tending to the garden she usually ignores. I hide a smile; Xand will never admit to having a green thumb because it isn't "manly", but he's one of the best gardeners I've ever known.

He's whistling, a trowel over one shoulder. When he spots me, his big brown eyes light up like a puppy's and he runs to me, throwing both arms around me and twirling me in the air. I laugh, feeling my bleak mood lift instantly. Good old Xand.

"Willow!" he cries happily. "My bestest of best buds. Where've you been?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Xander, I just saw you at Giles' on Wednesday."

He looks slightly puzzled. "What day is it now?"

"Friday."

"See? That is far too long to go without a visit from my bestest bud." He grins his usual lopsided grin and blows a rogue lock of hair from his eyes. "What's the what, Will?"

My own smile fades as the memory of why I hitched a bus to his house in the first place rushes back. Catching a whiff of my mood change, Xander leads me into his basement.

"Anya's out doing Anya-y things," he explains as he sits beside me on the tattered sofa. "I'm guessing from the lack of bright smiles that all is not right in the world of Willow?"

I shake my head. "I don't know what's going on anymore, Xand," I confess.

He looks confused again. "Class stuff? If that's it, Will, don't sweat it. You're a regular brain, remember? No worries there."

"It isn't class stuff," I answer.

He's silent for a beat, thinking. Then a slow smile crawls onto his face: a teasing, Xander smile, the one that I've grown so accustomed to over the years.

"Guy stuff," he announces to the basement, tossing an arm over the back of the sofa and turning to face me completely. "All right, Will. Lay it on me. I can do the girl-talk thing."

Part of me wants to giggle at this. The rest of me is far too preoccupied with the growing lump in my throat to say anything at all.

"It's…not exactly…"

He misunderstands my stammering. "C'mon, Will, you dated a wolf-boy for two years. If this is weirder than that, it's gotta be pretty out there. And bear in mind, you've still got my record of mummies, bug-women, ex-demons, and Cordelias to beat."

This time, he does get a tiny snicker out of me. "I'm not looking to beat your record," I assure him.

"As if you could." Though the words are teasing, his expression is sobering. He tilts his head to the side and looks at me as if he's just realized who I am. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

_I've been asking myself that very same question_, I think. Suddenly, I am in no mood to tell him about Tara and the strange feelings she's evoked in me. Suddenly, I am almost afraid—_no, there's no almost involved_—to give voice to these thoughts I've been having, all over this one quiet girl from Wicca group…

"Will?"

He's not the only one who has ever said my name like that, I muse, but he was probably the first. Xander was the first to do a lot of things with me. He was the first to come over my house, the first to try to teach me to play baseball, the first person I ever tutored. The first crush I ever had, the first reason for heartbreak, the first person I've ever cheated with…

The last memory hit me hard and I close my eyes. _Maybe this was a bad idea._ What had I been thinking? Did I really think I could walk into my childhood comfort zone, just trot right up to the best friend I've ever had, and blurt, "Hey, Xand, remember that major crush I had on you for years? Remember the fluking in senior year? I think it was _all _one big fluke because I've been hanging out with this girl and I'm starting to realize that I'm—"

What?

How could I finish that statement? What would I even say? I've always been able to tell Xander the truth…but what _was _the truth?

He's cocking his head to the side, still looking at me out of those huge, wonderful eyes, still absolutely _glowing_ with concern. He's really worried about me.

Yet Tara's face keeps flashing in my mind. Her smile, shy and timid, burns through every thought I have of telling him.

Despite myself, I'm smiling and shaking my head. I lay a hand on his arm and his expression grows even more mystified.

"Will?"

That does it. I laugh, outright and, even to my ears, the sound seems normal. I'm laughing not at the look on his face, not at the thoughts in my head, but at the sensation that shoots through my system. I feel like I'm falling and it doesn't bother me in the slightest.

My hand moves from his arm into his hair and I ruffle the already-mussed locks with a flourish.

"I love you, Xand," I tell him affectionately. "I don't think I tell you that enough."

He looks _really_ worried now. "Oh, God. Is the world ending? Why didn't you and Buffy tell me that the world was ending?"

"The world is not ending," I tell him, leaning forward and folding myself into his wary embrace. "I just…don't think I tell you that I love you as often as I should. So I'm telling you. I love you."

His arms relax around me and he presses his face gently against my hair. "I love you too, Will. Is that all?"

I draw back, feigning an indignant frown. "Is that _all_? Xander Harris, you sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself."

He winces. "That's not what I meant. You just seemed really scared when you showed up, Will. I just want to know that you're okay. Nothing's wrong, no one's after you?" His expression tightens. "Spike's chip didn't stop working or anything?"

"No, of course not." I hug him again, clinging tightly to him. "Xand?"

"Mm?"

"Thanks."

When I leave, I know he'll still be puzzled. When I'm on that bus headed back to UC Sunnydale, I know he'll stay up a bit later than usual, thinking about me and wondering if I was telling him the truth. I know this because I know my Xander.

I also know that he'll never quite realize how much his presence, his very existence, helps me. Sometimes, he's all that gets me through the day.

As for this Tara thing…well, even Xander can't help me with this. But here I am, thinking of her…and, for the first time all day, the image doesn't terrify me. It's hard to believe one visit to Xander could help me like this…

But I suppose stranger things have happened on the Hellmouth. We've gotten through so much as a group. Why shouldn't I be able to get through this on my own?

It's with this bold—and nerve-wracking—thought that I will get off this bus and walk to Tara's room.

God be with me.


End file.
